Dragon in White
by Clayton Overstreet
Summary: The most terrifying accursed beasts that ever were are arising again, this time in the modern world. Learn about their unique characteristics. Then read the story of a man whose bride fell under a dark curse and has returned to claim the man she lost.


This story is a single story from Clayton Overstreet's "Dragons", a sequel to the book "Dragon". If you enjoy it please purchase them on Amazon along with my other books.

 **Passage taken from** _ **Accursed Dragons**_ **by Doctor Kwan Lee:**

Everyone knows what a dragon is. The ultimate monster. When someone wants to make something scarier, they give it the traits of a dragon. Horns, fangs, and claws to tear through meat. Strange hypnotic eyes to rob men of their will, devastating fire breath that consumes all, dark magic from which there is no defense, intimidating intellect combined with merciless animal-like ferocity, wings to swoop out of the sky, claws that can dig up through the earth or jaws that can snatch children from the edge of the water like a crocodile, and impenetrable spines and scales that fend off the most powerful weapons… they had to give these things to the devil just to make _him_ scarier. The most powerful and oldest of monsters, before the undead or shape shifters or bogeymen, were dragons. Sixty five million years ago they ruled the world and did so for hundreds of millions of years before that. Dragons live everywhere in land, sea, or air as well as Heaven and Hell. Some say they even dwell among the stars. They have fought gods and fought for them. Been worshipped as gods themselves or feared as fairies, angels, demons, the wrath of God, magic personified, or tainted evil in purest form meant to rise up on Judgment Day as Leviathan and Behemoth or the World Serpent to strike down the unworthy and destroy the world. They have fed on the flesh of men and beasts from the dawn of time and protected treasures that nearly anyone would give their very soul to possess.

Recently a dragon, disturbed by the intrusion of a man and the theft of its gold, arose and terrorized the Los Angeles area of California for nearly a year causing much property damage and loss of life. As the leading researcher of dragons and other reptilian cryptozoological species not yet recognized by conventional science I was asked by many authorities and private citizens of note to consult on the case even before it was widely accepted by the media as a true story and not a hoax. Later the dragon vanished, either defeated by some brave soul or returned to its ancient slumber for some as yet unknown reason once it retrieved its stolen treasure. Either way, its ability to make itself invisible and the fact that its body and treasure were never recovered lead many to blame a serial killer, a mass hallucination, or a very elaborate if deadly hoax on the entire incident despite mounting evidence of its existence and absolutely no proof to the contrary.

This is because the particular dragon responsible was not the powerful but naturally occurring if extremely magical and usually peaceful Eastern variety or "lung" but the European variety of accursed dragon. Specifically known as the Drac or Koshei the Deathless (identification provided by Sara Knight who was a temporary captive of the dragon, bravely sacrificing her freedom to the monster as part of a contract with it in order to curtail its killing spree. For details you can read the book _**Dragon**_ by Clayton Overstreet). Origins for this particular species of dragon, the accursed, have been recorded for thousands of years to an ancient curse originating from before recorded history and possibly before humans walked the world, though the main source of most of it can be traced back to the lands of the Norse Vikings in which there is a famous tale of gold stolen from mythical river maidens, who may or may not have been dragons of another kind themselves, was used to forge a magical ring.

The original ring's history has been mythologized or possibly is absolutely true. Throughout its history what is certain is that it was endowed with a curse which turns anyone who killed someone specifically to steal it for their own would turn into a dragon, beginning with the person who originally made it from the stolen gold and was eventually turned into a dragon himself. It then passed from hand to hand most famously to Loki the god of Mischief and father of the World Serpent and then to Fafnir, son of a king who Loki owed. Fafnir killed his father and betrayed his brother to take the ring and the rest of his father's treasure, turning into a terrible dragon. Later a hero killed the dragon for altruistic purposes of saving people from the monster and thus gained control of the gold, but not the curse.

The curse is the philosopher's stone in a way. A precept of magic is that anything person thinks of as truly theirs literally becomes a part of them. It provides the owner with treasure, especially gold, taken easily. It transforms base flesh of mortal man into an immortal. It enhances magical abilities to near godhood. The accursed person becomes power incarnate. It almost seems like a blessing provided the victim does not mind being turned into a hideous beast with a hunger for human flesh, hunted by all, and tethered to a fabulous treasure that they can never spend for all eternity. Their only hope for release from an endless existence hiding in the darkest corners of the world to be found on the edge of a sword.

The characteristics of the curse are as follows.

Those afflicted were cursed when they killed another person specifically to obtain gold or other treasure which was either stolen from a powerful mystical creature such as a fairy or god or has been part of another dragon's hoard, though some mythical beings may be able to turn themselves or others into dragons directly at their discretion (much like many kinds of werewolf). Gods and demons are well known for using such beasts as mounts or taking on their forms. Once enacted the curse can spread like radiation to anything else that may have been in the accursed dragon's possession over time such as books, gemstones, and other precious metals or antiques. The original cursed ring spoken of in myth has been lost for centuries and it is known that most people who obtained a dragon's gold and survive the experience without being cursed tended to spend it, sell it, or melt it down into other things without even being aware of the curse and thus it is hard to trace specific artifacts which may still bare the curse. Evidence would indicate that the curse is spread to inanimate objects by proximity to the dragon and is still effective even hundreds of years after the death of said dragon. It is possible that it could also be transferred through the bite or blood of a dragon like other accursed creatures such as werewolves or the undead, but due to their large size and _highly_ poisonous nature no records have come to light of anyone surviving long enough to be cursed after being bitten by a dragon.

While Eastern dragons can purportedly change form into nearly anything they are known to closely resemble one another in their natural shape. Accursed dragons on the other hand share certain characteristics (horns, scales, poison/venom, and predatory instincts), but otherwise can vary from each other depending on how the person who is cursed pictures a dragon. They are literally the result of the darkest magic and nightmares, becoming the most terrible creature the curse's target can imagine and have continued to evolve as such. The ability to breathe fire arose later, though many dragons did develop the magical ability commonly to the point that it is usually believed to be one of their primary traits. Whether each accursed dragon developed whatever abilities they expected a dragon to have or always had them and older dragons merely did not know how to harness their magic is unknown. The original vampires did not have fangs or the ability to shape shift and many undead across the world developed other far stranger deviations. A werewolf's beast form can be a natural wolf or a monstrous beast depending on how the victim thinks of wolves. This may be unintended and merely how magic works using a mind to shape the power in the absence of the original spell caster or it may be that the originator of the curse wanted their victims to become whatever they saw as most frightening. Marco Polo described several dragons and other monsters he saw on his journey to China, all with distinct differences. The accursed that have no idea what a traditional dragon is supposed to look like may not even be recognizable as such and instead resemble other mythical creatures such as the chimera, griffins, demons, angels, sphinxes, and possibly mermaids just for example and at times may have other mystical abilities than the standard flight, fire breathing, invisibility, ability to breathe under water, and mind control.

Eastern dragons are known to enjoy treasure, but this is more appreciation or a natural instinct like a magpie or human. To an accursed dragon the hoard is practically part of their very being like a limb or their soul. The larger the accursed dragon's hoard and the longer the treasure has been collected together the more powerful the dragon becomes. As time passes they can develop a vast array of strange powers and in addition may also learn to perform magic spells like a fully trained sorcerer. Over time their power can grow to near god-like levels. (If you know how magic spells actually work, please write to us.) The dragon has a mystical connection to its hoard that allows it to keep track of any piece even over distance even if melted down into a new shape. The dragon will go to great pains to protect it from being taken, to retrieve any part lost no matter how small or difficult to get to, and punish those responsible in such a way as to discourage further trespasses. ( _Note: Cursed objects are often given to dragons so that they are kept safe and the dragon's curse will eventually overwrite the lesser curse on the object making it less dangerous as well as providing a guardian._ ) The golden fleece of Jason was a blessed object of such power that it shook off the dragon's curse as soon as the beast guarding it was dead, saving the Argonauts and especially their leader Jason from the fate of becoming dragons. What qualifies as a hoard can vary greatly. For example while precious metals and stones are the standard the dragon Campé that the gods placed to guard Tartarus considers the spirits damned to that realm to be her hoard, guarding them jealously and retrieving any that attempt escape. A king once turned into a dragon on his deathbed so he could forever protect his homeland. Some dragon-like demons or fairies substitute the power of a hoard by draining the life-force and souls of mortal creatures, similar to several kinds of vampire.

The curse can purportedly be lifted from a dragon by either convincing it to willingly give up its hoard or by finding something or someone it cares about more such as in Beauty and the Beast or the case of the Loathly Worm. Unfortunately the number of times this has happened in history can be counted on a clumsy pirate's fingers. There is also the chance that a trained sorcerer or god can lift the curse. (Again if you can provide first hand experience please contact us.) Otherwise the only release is death. They may not realize but the accursed, once changed, develop new instincts and needs to go with their bodies and, like the hungry vampire who may seek the lives of the living or an addict who knows they are dying but still craves their drug of choice, despite their human misgivings once cursed the desire to give up the gold and return to human form fades the longer they live with it and their distance from humanity only grows. Immortality, treasure, and power are known to be quite a bit harder to give up and the urge to hunt humans becomes harder to resist.

Provided the dragon is not itself a skilled magic user or has other powers they are, like vampires and werewolves, nearly immortal but can be killed by removal of the heart _and_ head or otherwise being dismembered. Preferably as far away from their hoard as possible, since the power of the hoard may resurrect it even then unless it is immediately claimed by someone else. Otherwise they will heal from nearly anything including decapitation. Like with other accursed monsters when killed the dragon reverts to human form leaving no physical evidence other than a dead body. Older dragons, those who survive for thousands of years, may be so powerful that they are truly immortal if not indestructible. There are very few and possibly no actual stories of ordinary humans managing to harm let alone permanently kill a dragon. Most are merely tales parents made up to placate children or their own fears. While some dragons have been reportedly killed by various magical weapons or beings like demigods to date no specific universal weakness has been determined in accursed dragons such as silver, garlic, religious symbols and so on though all have been tried. Possibly the curse predates the idea of "safety features" or "checks and balances" though there are rumors of a small soft spot in the underbelly that can kill or immobilize the beast if pierced. We think this _may_ refer to their genitals. It is possible that they are vulnerable internally should one dare get close enough to the beast's mouth and that inside they are not as fireproof. A prime example being the biblical story of Daniel using a mixture of pitch to block the dragon's fire and blow it up, angering the owners of the temple it guarded and earning him his famous trip to the lions' den. However this may stem from the tradition of removing the dragon's tongue, much like the biblical story of Michael slaying Lucifer, as evidence of the kill and also to keep the dragon's severed but still living head from using the tongue to kill people who let their guard down. Otherwise divine intervention from a god or one of their descendants may be required to slay one or merely drive it away. The Lambton Worm's regenerative powers were so great that severed pieces would reattach almost immediately.

All accursed creatures seem vulnerable to, if they are not actually killed by, attacks by cats. Though very few actively fear small house cats and similar creatures due to size differences wounds inflicted by cat claws and teeth burn and bleed even through a dragon's hard scales, weapons dipped in cat's blood also cut them, and cats' placenta has been used as an ingredient in a potion that can allow people to peer through magical glamour that sometimes keeps dragons from being seen. Undead, dragons, and for some reason unicorns have been noted to fight with and take damage from lions, tigers, leopards, jaguars, cheetahs, and other large felines. Such large cats will actively hunt dragons even when other less dangerous prey is available. While Eastern dragons have also been seen fighting with them it is likely that those were also accursed dragons who merely shared the characteristics of longs/lungs (Eastern Dragons) due to social conditioning and cats may be able to tell them from their divine cousins. Felines have been used by "witch hunters" to identify and condemn half breed descendants of supernatural creatures as demons or witches, though this may just have been superstitious fear mongering as there is ample evidence that most of their victims were completely innocent. Accursed dragons will often seek out large cats in their territory and kill them despite the danger of injury.

There is evidence that dragons have certain abilities that allow them to remain unseen by the naked eye provided the person does not have some magical sight or psychic ability. Cameras and mirrors will still capture their images. This is the opposite of vampires and may be further evidence of the origin of the curse being found among fairies rather than human magic. They are able to communicate telepathically, read minds, and even control humans with the power of their mind. The more gold they have the easier these abilities are for them to use and maintain. Dragons also have an edge in learning and using magic spells possibly due to larger brain size and are known for their wisdom and cunning. Other dragons will often challenge elders in order to steal their treasure and power for themselves, though this rarely ends well for the weaker dragon. ( _Note: Their odd abilities may be due to or controlled by a second brain similar to those of the larger dinosaurs. Since such a brain would not have access to the normal senses it may use psychic or magical senses to be effective. However this theory has yet to be proven as a specimen has yet to be obtained._ ) While most dragons seem to breathe fire others have been known to use lightning, scalding water, acid, or ice as their breath weapons among other effects. Some can even kill with their gaze alone.

The dragon's treasure is cursed, but until the curse is activated it is merely the magical equivalent of a battery much sought after my magic users and ordinary citizens alike since those with the skill can use them to empower their spells and others can still usually unconsciously cause either good or bad luck. Yet another reason people risk so much to obtain it. (See also: _leprechauns_.) Thus the older the hoard the larger the more powerful the dragon who owns it can become. Taking the hoard for its power must be done swiftly because while dragons can trace a piece of their own collected hoard, once the dragon who collected it has been destroyed the mystical connection between the pieces of the hoard is dissolved (even though the curse remains) and the gold and other precious materials are likely to be quickly spent by humans, spreading the curse far and wide and dissipating much of the power. It is just fortunate that the curse is relatively hard to activate and that dragons not only do their best not to let any of the hoard out of their possession for long, but tend to eliminate any other dragons they come across and claim their treasure too.

Dragons can live presumably forever with only their hoard for support but they do still feel hunger and while some are friendly (provided nobody bothers their hoard) centuries of people trying to kill them and steal their treasure tends to turn them against humanity or otherwise drive them mad. Some even lose their ability to think like rational men, reverting to unthinking beasts in their insanity, the weight of eternity pressing down on their minds, and their own predatory instincts. Even those not so afflicted are dangerous and often amoral in regards to their fellow man regardless of their human origins. Many will kill or even eat people and steal their property. When attempts to kill a marauding dragon fail they are intelligent enough to be otherwise convinced to stop attacking depending on the individual's sense of honor (not all are trustworthy). They are partial to milk and cattle, but usually can obtain these themselves whether the owner wishes to participate or not. The same for human sacrifices and attempts to pay it in gold or other precious things. Why make a deal when you can just take what you want? There is an exception though. Having been human once accursed dragons usually find other dragons hideous not to mention untrustworthy around their hoard. So rather than eat them they are often attracted to and will even kidnap and rape humans they find comely. If they genuinely wish to have a child however the accursed can only do so with a willing partner, preferably with people who have some magical connection such as a curse/blessing, a magical ancestor like a god or another dragon, or powers of their own. The Greek dragon Python collected the most powerful female oracles. While some dragons can take on human appearance and seduce such a woman or get lucky and find someone who actually finds them attractive, most have to resort to convincing someone to sacrifice themselves. This is usually accomplished by the dragon agreeing to stop burning villages and eating people if their intended surrenders to them. Keep in mind that once the demand is made other people usually make the decision for the chosen one and unwillingness or a lack of magic does not mean the dragon cannot perform the deed, only that pregnancy is unlikely. Many have had entire harems of lovers, but no children. ( _Note: The dragon's love of milk may be due to it at least partially neutralizing the damage cause by their poison and allowing more physical contact with human lovers. Testing to prove this theory would of course require access to the dragon's poison._ )

Should the dragon, cursed or from different origins, breed with a mortal the children may appear as a human or a monster or some combination of the two. Eastern dragons as well as their human mates will often happily accept their children regardless of their shape into their family but to an accursed dragon either is a threat to the hoard and eventually the offspring must go on their own way or risk a confrontation with their dragon parent and their human parent may find it to be a hideous monster. Like the children of gods, demons, vampires and others the curse as well as any magical abilities or physical characteristics can be passed down to them and their own descendants. This is the source of many mythical heroes and monsters. Some may have even influenced mundane history. The famous family Dracul for example were not actually known to be vampires despite the story of Dracula, but as the name actually states may have dragon blood in their ancestry. Bram Stoker also wrote a novel entitled "The Lair of the White Worm" based on the Lambton Worm. The Japanese royal family has always proudly declared such a relationship. These bloodlines are prized by dragons searching for a human mate as they are usually healthier and better looking than the average human and, along with other magical creatures, are easier to breed with. This is why they often prefer to try to seek mates among members of established royal bloodlines or those who demonstrate rare abilities. In extreme conditions or when exposed to magical energies of any kind it is possible that a human carrying dragon blood may transform into a dragon form without the original curse or adapt it to new ends. Some are reputed to be able to change back and forth at will. ( _Note: Many people including heads of state even today still claim to be descended from dragons._ ) Some suspect that many accursed dragons only breed to produce another weaker dragon who will gather a hoard of their own that the older and more powerful parent can then take for themselves later. The story of Kiyohime describes a woman who was spurned by her lover and transformed into a fire breathing dragon to seek her revenge even though lungs cannot usually breathe fire and cursed dragons cannot usually change their shape. She had neither killed anyone before turning nor even received anything that could have been cursed, transforming through sheer anger and hate for the man who betrayed her. She was likely the descendant of a cursed dragon or possibly both kinds, combining their abilities even though she was far enough removed from the original bloodlines to appear completely human up until her transformation, implying that it is a dominant trait rather than recessive. The powers of these magical half breeds are even more mysterious and possibly more powerful than those of their parents. These powers tend to fade over generations, at least in the human-looking descendants as they breed with mortals, but like the curse the _potential_ of their dragon's blood remains and can be brought out in unpredictable ways with equally unpredictable results. This could just be due to the half-breed's personal opinion of beauty reacting with natural shape shifting abilities. One can only imagine the terrible creature that would be born if two accursed dragons somehow managed to breed true and the offspring were free of the restrictions of the curse yet retained the power.

Unlike other intelligent monsters accursed dragons will rarely if ever run from a direct confrontation and are known to come out and face any who stand before their lairs and declare their enmity. Partially because they are so powerful that most of the time they are very confident in their ability to win, or because they have an sense of honor or sportsmanship developed over centuries, but also because as they add to their hoard it becomes progressively harder to move swiftly and while they may lead pursuers off or disguise its hiding place they will _never_ truly abandon it. Even if the numbers arrayed against them are overwhelming. Killing an interloper before they can tell anyone else their location is the more logical action and buys more time to find a better lair and move their treasure. Since they cannot usually risk leaving some behind to move it in bits and pieces it takes a lot of preparation to move a dragon's hoard. Many find it easier to simply stay put and kill off those who come until they are all dead or too afraid to keep coming. A dragon would normally rather die than risk losing a single piece of its hoard by running away in much the same way a human would be reluctant to simply abandon a limb or major organ. If they do abandon the treasure in exchange for their own life they will either return to human form or, more likely, return as soon as possible to claim it and kill those who took it when the odds are more in their favor. Many stories of the horrific results of "curses" that have killed entire families or towns, especially those involving mysterious fires, are in fact the more subtle acts of dragons retrieving what is theirs and killing the thieves, even if it takes centuries. Allowing people to take their treasure so that they can retrieve it may even be how some pass the time for an immortal. If a dragon wagers any piece of their hoard or offers it as a bribe or reward for their own purposes or services rendered you can bet they will keep track of it and intend to get it back at some point even if they have to wait generations. For example the Lady of the Lake who gave King Arthur his enchanted sword Excalibur and reclaimed it may have been a dragon or at least one of their offspring and the sword may be connected to the mystical Japanese sword the Kusanagi.

While most people believe that dragons are extinct, or never really existed at all, there are enough sightings reported of large flying creatures or UFOs, sea serpents, and other monsters every year that it is entirely possible that they are still around. Millions of people and animals go missing every year, more than enough to support such creatures as food. The question becomes "How does one prove the existence of a creature that is magical, smarter than us, and does not wish to be found?"

Due to the vast distances traveled by Vikings most of the outbreaks of accursed dragons can probably be traced to trade with them, including those found in Native American or Asian areas, though out east most would probably resemble the lung due to cultural conditioning. The Vikings need not have entered that area themselves to pass on the curse. Only for one coin, ring, gem, weapon, or other piece of a hoard to pass from one hand to another and then get killed over would be needed. Gold and gems may even be reshaped or cut into something that in no way resembles its original shape, like the Hope Diamond. It is possible that their children may also have moved East and even interbred with lungs there, merging the two kinds of dragons.

As the events of the California Dragon Attacks prove these creatures may be hidden away anywhere as might their gold. Dragons rarely if ever willingly part with their gold and aside from this one incident it has been centuries since anyone has even claimed to kill a dragon (despite rumors of an incident in the 1800s), though some sightings particularly of sea serpents are still reported. It is unlikely that most gold to enter a dragon's hoard has ever returned to circulation. The vast majority of murders over valuables are strictly for monetary gain rather than a specific desire to permanently possess a particular piece of gold and most ill gotten loot is quickly disposed of in exchange for less identifiable currency or hidden away by the new owner, making falling victim to the curse even if encountered much less likely. In fact it has been postulated that the switch to paper and electronic currency by most countries was intentionally instituted to prevent the curse from spreading.

It is possible and even likely that anywhere from a handful to thousands of these cursed objects still circulate in the world and that some day soon we may see the rise of another accursed dragon.

 **Dragon in White**

Most people are obsessed with something. For Kendra Jones it was her wedding day. As a young girl she had drawn pictures of herself getting married. She never played house unless the boy agreed to play wedding first. For Halloween she went as the Bride of Frankenstein, the Bride of Dracula, a zombie bride, and so on. Once she graduated from college she got a job in Las Vegas as a wedding planner.

It was all she could do not to ask every guy she dated to marry her on their first date. The only reason she did not also date women because she would never allow anyone else to wear a white dress at her wedding. Now that she was twenty-five she had finally landed a rich handsome man who just graduated from medical school and had gone into pediatrics. Tom was perfect and it was less than a week before she was going to finally get to say "I do." He was just as excited for that moment and not just because his bride to be was very hot. It had more to do with just getting it over with.

She was willing to admit she had been driving both her family and his nuts trying for the perfect wedding. Everyone was annoyed with her, but it was almost time and they all expected her to settle down once the ceremony was over. Tom had never thought that sweet demure Kendra would ever cuss at a florist and threaten to rip out his intestines. He had already made a note to have a "medical emergency" every time she had a period in the future.

Kendra had even told the dress maker to let her know the minute it was ready and now even though it was nine-thirty at night in October she had driven out to get it. The dress maker was used to this so even though she wanted to close up she waited and happily took Kendra's credit card before shuffling her out the door with her perfect dress wrapped in plastic. Kendra was walking on air. Somehow the dress made it all real. "Yes!" The only think keeping her from hugging it like her favorite teddy bear was the fear of wrinkling it. She used her free hand to reach for her car keys and prepared to race home when she heard footsteps behind her.

"Hey lady, got the time?" Kendra was not too worried about the young man in the lather jacket. It was Vegas. She saw weirder and more dangerous looking people in broad daylight, not that it ever got very dark. So she was just about to put her dress away and check her phone for him when she also heard the click of a switchblade and saw the knife in his hand. "Shut up and get in the alley bitch."

"Can I just put my dress…?"

"Now!" He grabbed her arm and yanked, making her drop her dress. She started to scream in anger and rage rather than fear, when he slapped her across the face. "Shut up and move!" Still wobbly from the strike Kendra went where he dragged her and then found herself being pushed up against a filthy wall.

She barely registered as he started tearing at her clothes, but as he began to work his own belt with his knife pressed up against her chin she begged with tears in her eyes. "God, please no. I'm saving myself for my wedding." She had been so lucky that Tom had been okay with that. Okay so maybe she could not wear white lipstick and maybe she was cheating with the gloves, but still.

"A virgin? Well look at it this way babe; your husband will be thanking me. Guys like a girl with experience." He slapped his free hand over her mouth. "Now shut up and take it before I decide to use my blade to pop your cherry instead. You're going to bleed one way or another."

Afraid for her life all Kendra could do was close her eyes and sob as she felt him press into her. For twenty minutes all she could do was ride it out and pray that Tom would not hold it against her. He would not, she was sure. Tom was the perfect guy. God she felt dirty. Violated. To add insult to injury she heard her car start up and drive away. Someone else was actually carjacking her. How much worse could it get?

Her assailant finished and she was thrown to the side, deeper into the alley as he zipped up. When he did he said, "You got some nice jewelry. I think you owe me a little something to remember you by. Give it over." Defeated she slipped off her diamond earrings and then her pearl necklace. She threw them at his feat and looked away. "The ring too, bitch! Don't you dare hold out on me!"

Kendra went cold. "The ring?" She looked at her hand. It was a big ring, solid gold with a remarkably clear nine-carat diamond. Ancient. Tom said it was handed down through his family since their ancestors had been members of Francis Drake's privateers taken from a Spanish fleet. Before that, according to the appraiser, it had been part of a treasure collected on a raid of the Irish coast, looted from the crypt of some Norse warrior before the Spanish had caught the pirates and had them all hung. For over a hundred years since it had been used as an engagement ring. It was everything she could have dreamed of. She loved it. It represented everything she had ever wanted and since the moment Tom had put it on her finger she could not imagine it not being there. Kendra would sooner give up an eye.

"Screw you, you limp dicked asshole," she snarled, her fear and shame replaced with the same anger she had been using for the caterers who could not make a goddamned shrimp puff. "Come near me or my ring again and I'll rip your tiny dick off and feed it to you."

"Fuck you slut," he snarled and jumped at her. Kendra responded by clawing at his face, but he was serious. The blade flashed and then sank into her chest. Kendra screamed and he stepped back, his face bleeding from her nails, one of which had broken off in his cheek. "That's what you get!"

Kendra was in pain, but in her anger she only saw where he had stabbed her. She was well endowed and though he had stabbed her in her chest his blade like his manhood was not that long or penetrating. What he had done was stab her in her cleavage, right where her dress would show a scar. "You son of a bitch!" Angry beyond words she stood up and grabbed the knife, pulling it free like King Arthur. He barely realized she was serious when she jumped forward and stabbed him with it. "Die you fucking jackass!"

He jumped back, so she missed stabbing him in the chest, but the knife went down and hit his thigh, dropping him to the ground. He screamed and fell, cursing her. Kendra regained some of her wits and jumped past him, out of the alley. She started to look around for help, but froze. Nobody was there. Her car was gone. And worst of all her dress was lying in the gutter by the sidewalk, stamped into dirty water and covered in foot prints. Her… _perfect_ … dress!

Something snapped inside her and she saw red before her heart froze solid. Her blood felt like ice in her veins. No loner angry she was cold. Calculating. Slowly she turned and walked back into the alley. The man still lay there holding his leg and whimpering. He did not even see her looming over him with her cold dead eyes.

Then he screamed again as the knife was yanked away in a spray of blood. He looked up and saw her jump on him. A moment later his scream was silenced by a stab to the neck followed by another and another as she worked her way down his face and throat, to his chest and stomach. Kendra began to laugh as she sliced up his crotch, finally leaving the knife buried in his flaccid dick. His cooling body looked like bloody raw hamburger meat. He looked much smaller now, like a child. How had she ever been afraid of something so pathetic?

Then she saw her hands. They were covered in blood but they were pale. More than that. Kendra had always taken good care of her skin and loved to sunbathe. Her family was Greek and she had inherited the olive complexion that mixed well with a tan. Now it looked like it was white… no, it was the same shade as her pearls. In fact when she looked close it was like her skin was made of tiny pearls, little round dots. A rainbow sheen glistened on each tiny pebble as if her skin were made of them. Her fingers were inhumanly long, like straws. From the tips were long vicious claws.

She felt a moment of fear followed by relief. Thankfully the ring still fit perfectly.

Startled she stepped back and heard something click on the ground. Looking down her whole body was the same and her legs were different. Like animal legs with backward knees and feet with five splayed clawed toes like a lizard's. When she moved they left deep scratches in the concrete. Between her legs she saw a spot of blood and semen on her pearl-pink crotch and hanging between her thighs a long whip-like tail. Her body was still changing. Growing and stretching. She felt the tingle of new limbs and saw her face stretching out.

Kendra was not sure if it was really happening or if she was going completely insane. Either way she knew who to blame and turned to stare down at the still cooling corpse. "You son of a bitch!" She leapt and began clawing and biting, swallowing chunks of his flesh and tearing through bones. She roared and a blast of blue-white flame shot from her expanding mouth between rows of fangs.

Suddenly she heard a police siren and felt her heart clench. She looked at herself. Scaled. Hideous. Covered in blood. She could not let the cops see her like this. They would call Tom. She would lose everything. On instinct she jumped up, growing wings flapping on her back and loose fins flapping in the wind. She climbed the wall like a spider and disappeared over the rooftop before the police stepped into the alley.

They missed her entirely, a little distracted by the wet confetti that they had to assume was the remains of a human body. It looked like someone had fed it through a wood chipper. The younger of the two fell to her knees and vomited on the sidewalk. The older backed out feeling queasy himself and went to their car to call it in.

 **(Two Years Later)**

Sometimes the warm Nevada sun was just what a person needed first thing in the morning. Thomas Franklyn, Tom to his friends and patients, sat on his balcony sipping coffee in the wake of his breakfast. He was reading the comics in the back of his favorite newspaper. Across the table his fiancée, Julia Adler, was practically glowing. She was a beautiful Navajo woman with red died hair and a smoking body that only years as an aerobics instructor could develop. She matched Tom's tall dark and handsome thing perfectly. They both wore fluffy blue bathrobes. She was reading a less reputable newspaper talking about the latest gruesome scene left behind by a local serial killer nicknamed "The Bride" because a few people claimed that a ghostly woman in a bridal gown had been seen nearby at a couple of the murders. That and because aside from the viciousness of the attacks the only connection was that the killer always stole the engagement and wedding rings. The police were pretty sure that was just an urban legend, but _The Daily Trash_ (as Tom called _The Daily Star_ ) had no problem using it to sensationalize things.

"It says here The Bride has claimed her twenty-seventh victim in two years. She may become the highest scoring serial killer ever if the police can't catch her soon. There are terrorist bombers that don't have this high a score."

Tom flinched. "I wish you wouldn't read that garbage, let alone treat this as some kind of game."

"Oh come on. What's the big deal?"

"You mean aside from the fact that I put an engagement ring on your finger last month so that if those ridiculous fear mongers are right you could be a potential victim?"

She snorted. "Please, this is Vegas. If it really is about killing people for their rings then it's a million to one chance she would choose me." She saw the look on his face. "What is it?"

He hesitated, but realized that he needed a reasonable explanation if he wanted her to take this seriously. "I think one of this killer's first victims was my former fiancé."

Julia fell silent. "You've mentioned her before but you never told me that."

"It's not something I'm happy about. It was a week before we were supposed to get married and Kendra was… intense about the whole thing. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but have you ever heard the term _Bridezilla_?"

Julia rolled her eyes. "You should have seen my aunt when her time came. I swear I thought she was going to gut the baker who not only put the groom and bride on the wrong sides on top of the cake but tried to pass off a couple of candy white people when she and Uncle Jim were both Navajo."

"Then by comparison they were tame. We were all just counting the days until it was over when she disappeared." He looked pained. "For two days we thought that she was just taking the whole 'no seeing the bride' thing too seriously. That was until the police found her car abandoned in Reno. Her wedding dress had been found near the dress shop and was taken as evidence at the first… god you couldn't even call it a murder scene. It was a massacre."

"Oh god baby, you didn't have to identify the body, did you?"

"There was no body to identify. The guy they found, he was some career criminal. A long list of crimes and from the evidence it looked like he was…" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "They found his semen and Kendra's… um… fluids. Her blood was on his… you know."

"Oh god…"

"They think the killer interrupted him raping her, though not soon enough. It was hard to tell because his body was pretty much everywhere. Shredded. They found a lot of her blood in the alley and on his knife too. A couple of finger nails. So maybe he killed her or just hurt her and the other killer just finished her off. Until they catch the bastard we'll never know."

"I'm sorry Tom. I won't bring it up again."

He waved it off. "Thanks. I just wish the news would do the same. Or that whoever it is would give it a rest already." He took a sip of coffee. "Worse I wonder if there's some connection between the killer and… well if it is about the wedding rings I… I gave her an old antique ring when I proposed. Something that's been in my family for a long time."

"Honey, don't blame yourself. Killers like this… they're crazy. Even if he did fixate because he liked her ring, it's not your fault."

Tom nodded. "I know that. I guess it's just… well it's been two years and we would have been married this Friday. It's been on my mind and with everything else…"

"Nice to know why you insisted on a Christmas wedding. Don't worry, I'm all for a nice simple ceremony." Julia leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Now forget all this nastiness and cheer up. You have a lot of kids to see today and tonight you promised to take me out to dinner."

"I am?" he asked, playing dumb.

She slapped his thigh. "You had better. Just because we're getting married doesn't mean you get to slack off. I expect at least dinner if you want me to put out."

"I do have reservations, but my girlfriend is going to be pissed."

"Don't worry, I'll just give her my boyfriend's number. He's a total man slut and will put out for a coke and a candy bar."

"Sounds like just her type." They kissed again and got up to put the dishes away. Tom smiled as she flexed and let one shoulder of her robe sag, sending him a saucy wink. He really was a lucky man.

It was never exactly dark in Las Vegas, but it was toned down in the part of town where Jackson Paper worked as a bouncer. His job was mostly dull. Women did not start much even in low end places like the _Pickle and Eggs_. You had to watch the bachelorette parties, but a warning was usually all it took. Tonight there were half a dozen women in there nursing only a couple of drinks. So he was left to stand in the doorway.

A voice said, "You know, you look like you need something to do."

Jackson saw the woman. She was a busty lady in tight clothes. Only a few wrinkles under her makeup gave him any clue that she was in her early fifties. She looked good and he knew from experience that Danny could suck the chrome off a bumper. Despite the outfit she was not a hooker, she just liked getting dressed up when her husband was out of town and bumping uglies. She'd do anybody, but the two of them had been doing it on and off for months when she wandered by and he had a free moment. She even kept his size and brand of condoms on her purse.

"Hey Danny."

She smiled and leaned up against him, reaching up to run one hand over his bald head. She smelled of vodka and tomato juice under her heavy perfume. "Is that any way to talk to me?"

He smiled a little. "I don't know. I think I'm going to have to give you up. You got lipstick on my collar last time. I told my wife my boss had me dress in drag and strip. As payment for backing me up my boss actually made me dress up and take a picture. To sell the story."

Danny smiled. "Mm, I'd have paid to see that. If you want I could go get a strap on and we can trade roles."

"I'm not gay."

She slipped a hand into his pants. "Good. Cause my husband and his teeny weenie is on his first out of town trip in weeks and I need a big hard cock. Know where I can find one? I can make it up to you by dirtying up my panties and I can wave them under my husband's fat face."

Taking a quick glance at the quiet club he nodded and stopped playing hard to get. "Right out back."

"Lead the way big guy," she said with a grin.

A few minutes later he was sitting on a balding chair that had been left out there months ago and Danny was riding him like a pony, tongue extended and tube top pulled down and miniskirt pulled up until they were a belt. She was kind of old and he was pretty sure she was racist, but Jackson had never found either to be something to complain about. If anything it made her even wilder than a woman half her age. He had never seen her in her day clothes, but he imagined her as being some stiff necked member of the PTA, probably the type who usually boycotted clubs like this.

"Can I join in?"

They both looked up startled. A figure stood nearby draped in white silk. Thick layers that his her figure, though she had a beautiful voice and carried herself with poise as she stepped forward. Danny, not liking being interrupted and feeling a bit weird at being seen, snapped, "Who the fuck are you?"

"Just an admirer." She walked forward and leaned over them. Danny felt the tips of sharp nails brush her back. "I always keep an eye out for people who like to keep open marriages. I notice your wedding rings don't match. Seems like you're enjoying yourselves anyway."

Danny shuddered and glanced at Jackson. He shrugged. He was a guy. If she said yes he would not hesitate. If she asked his opinion he'd say to go for it. If she left it up to him it was fifty-fifty. She was pretty certain he would pick her, but she was aging and did this because she often felt unattractive and fucking guys like Jackson made her feel better. "Sure, I've never had a three-way before. How about I turn around and let him have me from behind and you eat me out?" Inside she was hoping this weird chick in the wedding gown was all talk.

Instead the woman purred, "That sounds… delicious. I've never been in a three-way before either, but I'll eat a woman or a man."

Unable to back out Danny was flattered as she took the new position and the layers of white cloth fell across her thighs. She had never been hit on by a woman before. Least of all with another guy banging her right then. It was really hot and she quickly got into it.

It was strange though. Whatever the strange wedding dress was made of felt soft and smooth, but warm and almost leathery. She did not notice at first. A warm tongue that felt almost like a snake was exploring her and she felt rough hands, like gloves on her thigh and between her legs to caress Jackson too, helping him in her. As the same time there was an odd slimy feeling and a weird chemical smell. Drugs? Lube?

"It… it itches…" Jackson grunted in her ear.

Danny realized he was right. "Something's burning. Stop! Stop!"

The figure ignored her. Something rough and grating was now rubbing on their skin. Strong hands gripped them and though they struggled they could not get away. They both felt a body grinding on them and something like a rope made of snakes wrapped around them and tied them to the chair while the alien feeling of the hidden body was now humping them with painful inhuman strength. The bonding was scales and pulsed with a heartbeat and had tiny spikes that cut into the flesh opening small wounds that burned like acid as venom entered their blood.

Worse they felt something in their brains. Forcing them to continue despite the pain. Moving their bodies and sending pain through their heads. They found they could not even try to escape as an outside force sifted through their minds and held them in place despite their panic and pain. As the sickening smell of the mucus covered them in burning sizzling slime. There was a moment when the two original lovers were covered in the torturous fluid, screaming for help as the folds of cloth began to spread open. Only as they did it was clear they were not cloth and that what they were covering was not in any way human. Both of them began to scream louder, in pain and fear. They began to beg. Danny whimpered, "Please… stop…"

Jackson saw her form then, over Danny's big hair. "You… you're a… a…"

"Yes, I am," she hissed. Then her luminous blue eyes with their deep black slits looked lustfully and hungrily into Danny's. "You _said_ I could eat you," the voice said. The white folds like sheets fluttered around them closing around the couple and their paramour. "And it's so hard to find lovers. I have so many appetites to fill, none of which are easy for a human to survive. I do so love to find people who deserve it." Scaled lips kissed her mouth and as she struggled Danny cut her lips on razor sharp fangs. "Don't worry, I'll give your wedding rings a much better home than on your cheating… but tasty… fingers. Love 'em, eat 'em, and leave 'em, that's my motto."

The layers of white wrapped around them like a cocoon, muffling their cries. The chair rocked and bent for some time. Then after some time the movement stopped and around the layers of white. A little while from under the tight white ball blood began to fall like rain. Purple wet organs slid free. Some missing pieces. Bite marks that CSI would chalk up to animal predation.

Then in a flash and still dripping a trail of blood the white figure was gone, leaving behind the mutilated pieces of Danny and Jackson to be found later when the bartender closed up, wondering where the bouncer had gone and why he was not helping empty the trashcans. The police would trace the splatter trail, but not hopefully. It would not be the first time it led up a vertical wall and disappeared over rooftops. Just another of many details they had kept out of the press.

Tom woke up with his cell phone ringing in his ear. Julia was lying next to him grumbling into her pillow and he reached for it. Absently he flipped it open. The caller ID said it belonged to some guy named Jackson Paper. The parent of one of his patients? Usually the mom brought them in and he rarely met fathers. Since he could not remember anyone named paper it might even be an ex husband. He hoped it was at least an emergency if they were bugging him this early.

"Hello?" He made sure he sounded grumpy and tired, which he was, so that the person on the other end of the line knew he was not happy.

"Aw sweetie, you sound tired. You know you should get more sleep. The kids get nervous when their doctor is in a bad mood."

He sat up, his heart racing. "K—!" He stopped and demanded. "Who is this?"

The voice giggled sweetly. "Don't you recognize me? I know it's been a while, but you haven't forgotten my voice have you? You used to tell me how it sent shivers down your spine when I spoke like… this…" The last three words were purred. "Don't you miss me baby? Don't you miss your honey pie?"

"You… you're dead. It can't be you." Next to him Julia raised her head, looking at his pale face in the early morning light with concern. Tom did not even notice her.

"I knew you thought that baby and I'm sorry. I had to lay low for a while. I…. I was hurt. I don't look like I did baby. I had to make a lot of adjustments. So I understand why you hooked up with that other girl. I can't blame you, but when I saw you the other night and her with that ring on her finger. Well I couldn't just let you make a mistake like that. I still love you baby and I'm going to see you soon. You just tell that little lady that her… services will no longer be required."

"What?"

"I'm coming back baby. I'm coming for you. I'm working on our perfect wedding. And if that stupid girl stands in my way I'm afraid I'll have to tear through her. This is her only warning baby, out of courtesy to you. I know how soft hearted you are. Someone's going to die before this is over and if you don't want it to be her, you'll send her away." The line suddenly clicked off.

Julia leaned over and touched Tom's face as he lowered the phone. "Who was it darling?"

He looked at Julia, almost seeming to see through her. "I…I think it was a ghost."

The police were very little help. They traced the call back to a cell phone owned by a bouncer at a seedy club who, along with another woman, had been murdered in the same way as a lot of other people supposedly by _The Bride,_ as the newspapers had dubbed the white-clad figure often seen by witnesses. They admitted that they had noticed certain patterns. Most notably that the killer targeted people who cheated on their spouses and took their wedding and engagement rings.

"Do you think that your former fiancé could be responsible for this?"

Tom shook his head. "I thought she was dead. You people found her blood at the scene of one of the first killings. Besides while Kendra was tough she was a rather skinny woman barely topping five feet. You said the killer never uses a gun, so how would she overpower a bouncer, let alone when there was someone else there to back him up?"

"We were hoping you could tell us. She disappeared just before your wedding, didn't she? Were there problems at home?"

Tom glared at the detective. "Sir, Kendra would have swum through molten lava to get to the altar. She dreamed of little else growing up and we both spent a fortune setting it all up. I honestly can't see her faking her death for two years and going on a killing spree, but even that is more likely than Kendra failing to show up at her own wedding. That more than anything else made me certain she was dead."

The policeman nodded. "I see. I've run into that type before. They do sometimes snap. Just last week we had a woman in here who tried to stab her caterer for bringing in the wrong kind of caviar." He paused. "We did find blood at the scene of your fiancé's attack as well as her damaged dress. If she were disfigured in the attack rather than killed, how do you think she would have responded?"

Tom had loved Kendra. She had been a hard worker, intelligent, friendly, and while she had wanted to be a virgin on their wedding night, she had been willing to do other things so their love life was actually pretty satisfying. She had been slightly obsessed with marrying, but had kept it reigned in until he had actually proposed and Tom had been certain that the crazy that had reared its ugly head during those days would settle back down after the ceremony. All the same he had to admit, it had been _a lot_ of crazy. He imagined what she would be like if days before her wedding she was raped and her face had been sliced up by some mugger in an alley.

"I would say… not well," he admitted. Could she really be responsible? He wanted to say no, but the evidence was mounting up. If she was alive, why hide? If nothing else she knew he would still love her even if she had been hurt and they lived in Las Vegas. There were more plastic surgeons than fast food restaurants. Why go the route of the Phantom of the Opera? "I just can't figure out what could have made her run."

"Well if she's alive then she did kill a man. Brutally."

"Oh…" The guy who raped her, cut her, and ruined her dress? Tom felt his stomach sink. Kendra could have done that. It was all too easy to picture her going mad. Especially if she thought she was a fugitive.

The only thing was, how would she get away with it? Kendra had never come back. She had not accessed her bank accounts. Had not been seen in public in two years. And some of _The Bride's_ victims had been very large men ho should have been able to handle a woman her size easily even if she were armed and the killer never used a gun. In fact the police asked if Kendra knew anything about chemistry because the victims were often coated with some strange unknown chemical. As far as Tom knew she had no experience in that area at all. Kendra could barely cook.

The police thanked Tom for his help and said they would be in touch. They also asked him for a picture of Kendra.

Julia was also shocked as she watched him go through a collection of old photos he had in a box in his closet. She was not jealous that he had kept them. It was not like Tom and Kendra had broken up. If he had been a widow she would have understood him keeping the wedding ring or other keepsakes. "So you think your ex is a serial killer?"

"I don't know what to think. A day ago I thought she was dead. God I can't imagine what her family is going through right now. I'm sure the cops are talking to them. Would it be worse if she called them or if she didn't?"

Julia had no answer for that one. Reaching over she picked up a picture and examined her man's former fiancé. "Nice tits. Were they real?"

"Yes," he said.

"Sorry to focus on that, but I never knew her. You didn't talk about her much."

"What could I say? She was a great girl and then she was just gone."

"And now she's back and telling me to get the hell out of Dodge."

"Maybe we should. If she's really this killer… we're talking about brutal crimes here."

"Do you really think it's her? I mean maybe it's some guy with a voice changer or something. If this was one of those murder movies she was one of the first victims."

Tom nodded and put an arm around Julia. "I hope you're right, but either way you're being threatened."

"Then hire us a couple of bodyguards while the police look into this. I'm not going anywhere." Julia kissed him and looked down at the pictures. "I'm not going to be chased off by the ghost of your crazy ex-girlfriend."

It was dark and Lieutenant John Evans, US army, was heading for an illegal brothel run out of a crappy hotel in a bad part of Vegas. He was a block away when he slipped his wedding ring off his finger and into his wallet for safe keeping. John loved his wife, but she was a bit of a prude in the bedroom. He had gotten rather experienced in foreign lands and while he tried to be faithful every now and then he needed a night out with a girl who would do the things his wife would not.

Suddenly a voice called out, "Hey big boy, where are you going?"

He turned and saw a woman standing on the street corner nearby. At least he assumed it was a woman under all the layers of white silky fabric. Her voice definitely sounded feminine. "I'm just…"

"Just heading off for a bit of fun with a hooker?" The figure said, sashaying forward. "I've seen you around here before. I always think it's such a shame when a big handsome man like you has to pay for sex."

He tried to look, but the fabric was not even a little lacy. "You know somebody around here who is giving it away?"

The woman chuckled and he felt himself stiffen. She definitely had a sexy voice. Then again she could be a guy or ugly, but it was not like he had not dabbled in that on occasion too. "Why don't you join me in that alley over there and I'll show you?" An arm under all that fabric raised and pointed.

He looked over at the place between two buildings, too small for them to even put a dumpster. Then he looked back and saw that she was gone. "Huh?" He looked around and swathe white figure at the alley leaning provocatively against the building. Damn she was fast! Smiling he looked around and jogged over. Cautiously he asked, "You're not a cop, are you?"

She laughed and stepped back into the dark alley. "No, I'm definitely not a cop."

John hesitated. Something about the way she said that was setting off alarm bells. Still he was tempted. Free sex and in a dirty alley. It was kind of kinky. "Mind if I get a look at you?"

"Not at all," she said, stepping back deeper into the shadows. He saw the layers of white start to unfold, slowly revealing the form under them. "You see I'm getting married this weekend and I'm in the mood for one last fling."

"Oh," he said reaching for his zipper. "Well I'm happy to help out. I have to tell you, marriage can take a lot of fun out of life."

"Somehow I knew you'd feel that way," the voice was suddenly a low angry growl. "You cheating _bastard_!" John looked up from fiddling with his pants and for the first time saw the eyes. Two glowing orange eyes like giant fireflies floating in the darkness surrounded by white fabric floating around her like sheets on a line flapping in the breeze. What he saw in the middle made no logical sense. Then suddenly a scaled hand, each finger tipped with a long claw, shot out of the dark and closed on his shirt. He could see the tiny round scales, like pearls. The claws were sharp and sank into his chest as easily as his shirt and yanked him into the dark before he had time to scream. But scream he did. Long and loud until it was suddenly silenced. Long before then though, a pool of blood had begun to spread into the sidewalk from inside the alley.

Julia was taken off the street at 12:13 PM on Saturday. Her bodyguard, a big strong man named George in a black suit and sporting a pair of shoulder holsters with Desert Eagle handguns had been opening her car door for her when something had dropped out of the Nevada sky and snatched her. There was nothing he could do. Security cameras from a dozen different perspectives showed a blindingly white figure swoop in and away. All blurry and indistinct.

"I swear it was like the freaking Mothman!" George said, desperately trying to explain things to his employer. "I don't know if it was a costume, but I saw fangs, and orange eyes, and claws man! It fell out of the sky and took her like an eagle with a rabbit! Then it flew away! She didn't even scream before it was just gone!"

Tom had not really believed him until the police had called him in and shown him the tapes. The detective in charge, a Terry Michaels, asked is he had received any ransom demands. "Not as much as a phone call. I've tried calling her phone, but I've got nothing." His voice was flat. He had panicked earlier. Now the adrenalin had worn off and he just felt empty. "I'm beginning to wonder if I'm cursed."

The policeman sank into his chair and said, "Not you, but definitely somebody." He pursed his lips. "Mr. Franklyn there are certain details we did not share with you. That we felt it would be best to keep from everyone."

Tom looked at him. "Like what?"

"Like the fact that both the weapons and the chemical used are organic. That some of the bodies were left in places that it would be hard for anyone to get to. And that the chemical was only found in connection to some incidents in New York and California."

"What incidents? Are you saying this killer has been active before? That it might not be Kendra after all?"

"No, but… it's sort of unbelievable. Tell me, what do you know about… dragons?"

Tom was reeling as he stepped out of the police station and into the sunlight. He felt confused and a hopeless loss. What he had been told was crazy. At the same time there was video proof. Files. Witnesses.

He had of course heard about what happened in California years before. How people had claimed that Los Angeles was under siege from an actual dragon. For months there had been a massive hunt for the creature. Dozens of people had died. There was a lot of video. Most of which had supposedly been debunked when the whole thing had stopped. All the talk of magic and curses had not helped after the original panic. Then it had all stopped and there was no dead or live dragon around any more.

The police did not have to luxury of just writing it all off as some sick joke. Especially since a few months ago there had been another incident in New York in which a fugitive had somehow been turned into a dragon himself for a few days. Similar chemical traces had been left. No other deaths aside from the owner of a coin collection who had been killed in a robbery. Plenty of property damage though and video tape of the creature, found human and dead a short time after fleeing the police.

How was it possible? Kendra had sounded like herself on the phone. Not some… monster.

Worse, the police did not know what they could do. Apparently they not only had nothing to go on in an investigative sense, but the few times that the authorities had tangled with these creatures they had been completely outmatched. The first one had shrugged off bullets and heavy weaponry. Supposedly some private individuals had gone after it with a ludicrous amount of illegal weapons just before it vanished entirely and none of them had survived to tell what happened. The second had flitted around New York like a giant sparrow simply avoiding them except for a brief strafing to return the coins before flying away. Both had been able to turn invisible to the naked eye.

Tom was still in a daze when he reached his car and saw the envelope under the windshield wiper. White with gold filigree. His name was on it. Reaching out he picked it up and pilled out a card. "You are cordially invited to the wedding of Thomas Franklyn and Kendra Jones tonight at midnight at Saint Michael's Cathedral. Black tie is required." Tom recognized it. It was the church where he and Kendra had been going to get married. Out from behind the card a picture fell. Julia, ties to a chair. Her makeup was running from crying. The words _No Police_ had been written on the back.

Tom's hands clenched on their own, crumbling the invitation and the picture. He felt like he was the victim of a cruel joke. None of this could be real.

He almost went back into the police station to ask for help, but the look of terror in Julia's face in the photograph stopped him. Whatever was going on he had to do what the kidnapper wanted. He had no choice.

Saint Michael's Cathedral was a large medieval style building. Tall and done in white stone with gargoyles on the roof under a giant brass cross. Normally it shut down by ten at night, even to those who were lighting candles for deal loved ones. Some churches and quickie wedding places were open twenty-four seven but Michael's was of a higher respectability so they did not have an ordained Elvis impersonator just waiting for a couple of drunks to swing by. They required a reservation booked months in advance and for a boat load of money. Tom had not gotten his deposit back.

He stood outside for a moment and checked his watch. It was still ten minutes to midnight. He was wearing a tuxedo and looked good. He had considered showing up in sweats and with a shotgun, but with Julia's life on the line he had to do his best. There was a small gun tucked into the back of his pants though, just incase.

Looking up at the imposing wall of the cathedral Tom prayed to God for any help he could get. There was a large stained glass window showing the angel Michel driving a sword into Satan. The white marble gargoyles glared down at him as if preparing to pounce. Hideous creatures out of nightmares. Tom closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hissing it out between clenched teeth. When he opened them he felt a shiver of fear. One of the gargoyles had vanished.

Tom felt his knees go weak. The thing had been far enough away that the details had been hard to make out. That may have been the only reason he found the strength to walk up the stairs towards the large double doors. Because he was a brave man as well as good looking and smart. Kendra was right about him. He was the complete package.

He pulled both doors open wide and stepped inside. As he did organ music began to fill the air. Tom stepped forward and looked around the room.

There were rows of empty pews. Lots more windows showing Bible scenes dominated the walls. He could hear them rattle slightly in their frames as the wedding march played. The walls were stone that arched above him. Angels carved into the pillars holding stone swords. There was a confessional too.

Up at the front were six… no, four people. There were two medieval suits of armor on either side of the dais he had mistaken for people. They simply stood impassively. One with large sword in its hands, the tips between hiss feet the other with a large battle ax blade down and hands on the handle. Like an honor guard.

One was an old nun who was playing the organ, glancing nervously at the others. Another was a priest draped in a white robe over his normal black uniform, the collar around his neck as his Adam's Apple bobbed. He was scared stiff standing like a statue himself his knuckles white as he gripped the Bible in his hands. A gold cross hung around his neck. He was around fifty and balding, but his hair was still mostly black.

Julia was in a large ornate wooden chair, tied to it with yellow nylon rope. She had four bloody lines on her cheek. Shallow cuts, but still caked with dried blood that she had not been allowed to wipe off. Tom saw her hands on the arms of the chair and noticed the pale line where her engagement ring had been. Her nylons had runs in them and her clothes, a black shirt and a pair of jeans, were ripped. She had a gag over her mouth and her eyes glistened with tears as she silently sobbed.

That was when he decided the tall white shape between the other two had to be Kendra. This was psychotically crazy and everyone was dressed up except his new fiancé. There was no way she would let any girl, let alone the one he had replaced her with, look good on her wedding day. A random psycho might have beaten her up, but would have had her dressed up as a bride's maid or something, he was sure. "Hello Kendra."

Her voice carried impressively in the huge room. "Hello Tom."

"It's been a while."

"For you. I've been watching."

"I thought you were dead."

"I know. And I do not blame you for moving on. I'm sorry I could not come for you sooner. At first I was horrified with myself. I killed a man and… I'm not the woman you knew, honey. I'm still female, but… I've changed."

"So it's true what the police said." He walked forward, looking at the white figure under its layers of flapping white silky sheets. He could not even tell how she could see through all of it. "You've been… cursed. God, I can't believe I'm saying that. Am I supposed to be Johnny Depp?"

She snorted and released a blast of smoke. He blinked and suddenly she was gone. He heard the crack of the folds of her dress flapping in the air like a flag flying off the back of a motorcycle. Around him thousands of candles flickered. Suddenly he froze as two sets of long fingers wrapped around his arms. He felt power and looking down he thought they were gloves at first until he realized the little pearl shapes, white with rainbow sheens, were scales. Like they were covered in oil or something. All of the fingers were inhumanly long, lizard-like with extra unnatural joints. Black claws pricked him just a little through his clothes. Hot horrifically smelling breath that made his eyes water blew across his cheek. He barely strained, too frightened to run, but even that was enough to let him know that the fingers were like a vice and he could not break free. He also saw his family's antique ring on one of the fingers.

"Yes, I am cursed. That lovely ring." She purred in his ear. "I couldn't give it up. Even after that nasty man raped me. Sliced my beautiful skin. Stabbed me in my breast. Left my pretty dress in the gutter. I wouldn't— couldn't let him have the ring."

He closed his eyes. "Kendra, they told me that if you give up the ring you might turn back to normal. You can be human again."

She shuddered and brushed against his back. "A tempting offer my love, but you don't know what it's like. It's not just your ring any more. I've been… collecting. I read up on my condition and I noticed that I was not vanishing like the others. I can't breathe fire yet either. According to the books I read the old dragons did not know how to harness their power. Me, I just have not gathered enough of a hoard yet. I'm… picky." Another blink and she stood in front of him. "Giving it up is not so easy Tom. It's part of me. Every time I add more… there's a rush. A rush that never stops because I can feel the power pulse through me all the time. Every part of my body tingles with it."

"Then you've made your choice. Why come for me now?"

"Because you are _mine_ ," she said. "My perfect man. I realize you haven't been faithful, but you did mourn me and think I was dead. So I forgive you. I also know that you are a good man Tom and just because I might look different does not mean you'll love me any less. I know it."

"If you believe that, then why wait? Why not come back when I still had hope? Before I had someone new in my life."

"At first I was afraid. I had killed a man. In self defense true, but look at me my love. Would they have given me the benefit of the doubt?" Tom gasped as she stepped back and he realized she was not wearing a dress. The while folds spread out like a sail in the wind and he saw Kendra for what she really was. "You see?"

She reminded him of a cross between a pterodactyl and a Siamese fighting fish. Unlike the dragons he had seen on video her wings were not ribbed, but had a single limb across the length like a hang glider with a single thumb. They spread wide over the pews almost two or three times as wide as her body was long and her body was _long_. Thin and snakelike now that she was not hunched up in on herself she stood fifteen feet tall with a long sinewy neck on a weird pair of doubled shoulders that were wide enough to make room for her arms and wings. There were spines all over her body like fence posts in rows with white silky webbing between them. From the horns on her head to a ridge down her back, fins on her limbs and off the sides of her head.

Her head was ling and thin like a komodo dragon mixed with a bird of prey. Her eyes glowed orange, solid orbs of fire. Around her neck was a frill like those Australian lizards. Around her mouth sharp fangs stuck out in neat rows and when she opened her mouth it was like she had a saw in her upper and lower jaws. A long purple tongue, forked at the end, flickered out. Her ears were pointed and horse-like on her head.

Her body was long and impossibly thin, only the parts where her limbs stuck out having visible bones and those were off around her shoulders because animals more evolved than a grasshopper or a fish were not supposed to have six limbs, let alone seven if you counted the long whip-like tail that coiled back and forth like a snake ending with two more long flapping fins like one of Leonardo da Vinci's airplane designs. All over her something shimmered in a slimy wetness that made her look shiny from a difference and oily close up. It smelled awful.

Her legs reminded him of a thin raptor, only all five of her claws were equipped with the large sickle shaped ones. Her hands were wide and had long fingers, the longest nearly nine inches, all still as thin as human fingers so they looked like straws. The ring glittered on her ring finger. Around her left arm was a leather strap braided back and forth. Around it were dozens of small gold rings. Some with gems, most simply plain gold bands.

Folded up on herself she looked like a bride in a layered silk dress. Stretched out she was a dragon. Natural sails flapping in the air. She saw him looking at her and smiled as she ran a hand over her flat chest, claws rattling against her tiny but hard scales until they stopped over her still obviously female crotch. "I know, you miss my breasts. I think there's some illusion that helps me look a bit more human when I fold up, but I'm not powerful enough to be invisible yet."

"Among other things. What is that smell?"

She frowned. "That is the other reason I could not just come to you. I'm poison Tom." She walked backwards up the red carpet to where the priest and Julia were watching. Neither made any move to try and explain. He understood. Kendra was too fast. The dragon reached over and ran the smooth part of one hand over Julia's cheek. Some of her skin oil was left behind and it began to smoke. Julia cried into her gag as her skin turned red.

"Stop."

"I've tried to stop it Tom. I've tried so hard. I read about that dragon in California and how he took a bride. She came out of it fine. People even saw him control it, taking damage away from her after his poisoned burned her skin. I've had to be so unfaithful to you my love."

"What do you mean?"

"All those people… I needed to eat, but I also wanted to touch you again. So I multitasked. I _had_ to eat Tom and… let's just say I doubt they would have let me into the buffets." She waved a claw over her body. "I needed _meat_ and… well after what that fiend did to me in the alley I felt dirty and used so… I used others. Men and women who broke their vows. You know how I feel about marriage vows, don't you Tom?" He nodded. "So I combined my meals with my attempts to control my poison." Her find and wings sagged. "It never worked though. I tried so hard but I don't know how to restrain it especially in the throes of passion. They all… well it was not pretty. Burning skin like acid. Hallucinations. And of course I had to eat them when they became violent…"

Tom nodded, holding his revulsion in check. "I saw the crime scene photos." He walked forward. "Kendra you know we can't be together like this. You need to let Julia and these others go and find someplace you can go. Someplace away from people."

Kendra suddenly straightened up. "Oh no sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere. She is."

"W-what do you mean?"

There was a scary smile on her lips right out of _Jurassic Park_. She reached over to the organ where the nun was still playing and picked up a gold ring. The nun flinched away and her music faltered until Kendra shot her a look and she quickly picked up the tempo again. "Like I said, I've been doing research. I turned because I killed someone for my ring. This… this is from the rings I've collected. My hoard. Infused with my power and my curse. It tears at me, like tearing off a fingernail, but this is the first ring I took from one of those cheating bastards. I just ate him. I had not moved on to the rest yet. Still it's just your size and I know you Tom can redeem it. You just need to do one little thing." She next picked up a large knife, a dagger. "This I stole from a pawn shop just today. Just for you. Come here Tom."

He walked forward and joined the others. She handed him the dagger and he took it. "What am I supposed to do with this?"

"Kill her. Take the ring."

Tom stared at her. "I can't do that!"

"You can my dear." Kendra looked into his mind and he felt something like an ice cream headache. She held up her arm, glittering with stolen rings. "Think about it. Feel what it's like for me my love. What it could be like for both of us."

Suddenly the church vanished. He was soaring over the city, Vegas a toy-like construction flowing with cars and ant-like humans. Powerful wings rising and falling as the hot desert sun bathed his body like a second breath. A body that flowed with power and strength. All the little aches and pains of daily human life gone. Healed and gone.

On his left arm was the string of gold rings and gems, pulsing like his heartbeat. He understood what Kendra meant about them being part of her. It felt like a piece of his soul. Giving one up was like willingly chopping off a finger. Only her certainty that they would be each others'… that they would share their hoard forever… allowed her to make that sacrifice.

He saw their future. The king and queen of Las Vegas. Dark beasts who hunted the night for those who broke their vows. Kendra could have stolen all kinds of treasure by now. Could have killed anyone. Instead she focused on cheaters. Vow breakers. Warlocks, as they were called back in the days. Men and women who made promises of marriage to people who loved them and then violated it with others. She got a great sense of satisfaction out of both making love to them, coating them in her burning deadly poisonous fluids, and then devouring their traitorous flesh. The rings were small, but meant more because of it. Trophies for striking blows to those who deserved it. It would take a long time before she had enough to turn invisible, breathe fire, or other dragon tricks, but she had the time.

Tom came out of the vision, Kendra's voice a hypnotic mantra in his ear. "Power Tom. Gold. Life eternal. As our hoard grows so will our power. We will rule this city like avenging angels. Unstoppable. Everything we want ours. We'll have each other. Forever." A claw pointed at Julia who was watching in horror and shaking her head. "Kill her Tom. Kill her for the ring. Take on the curse and we will live forever. It feels so good to be a monster dear. No consequences. No restraint. Nobody who can stop us… forever." Her wings spread out behind him and from Julia's standpoint as his hand clenched around the dagger's handle, he looked like Michael the angel. Or maybe Lucifer. "Can't you see it Tom? We'll make this world into Heaven, just for us."

"Hell for everyone else, you demon," the priest said and received a slap across the face from her tail that knocked him out to crumple on the floor. The nun screamed and turned to run for it. Kendra let her go. She had other things to think about. Besides she had done her job.

"One swift strike Tom. Can't you see it? Feel how good it is?"

He nodded. "I do. God, it must be amazing."

"Oom?" Julia said through her gag.

Smiling Kendra backed up. Giving him room to raise the dagger. Tom looked into Julia's eyes. "I'm sorry." She closed hers, stiffening as she waited for the blow. A moment later the knife fell and cut. "Run!"

Julia opened her eyes as the ropes fell away and Tom turned. Kendra hissed, spraying acidic spittle, and flaring her fins and claws. "You fool! You're ruining our wedding! Again!"

"Kendra, we need to see other people," Tom said launching forward between her long thin arms and stabbed at her eye. Kendra had attacked a lot of people, but it had been through surprise. Despite her formidable body designed to be a killing machine she was not used to actually fighting. A few times they had tried to stab her or shoot her and the knives and bullets deflected off her gem-like scales.

Tom went for her eye.

Kendra screeched and it was like a bomb, the force of it throwing Tom back. He skidded along the red carpet and landed ten feet away. His ears rang and his bones tingled. Even his teeth ached. Still he pushed himself up to his elbows and looked around. Julia was gone, thank God. His hand, covered in Kendra's greenish blood, burned painfully and his head swam.

Up on the dais she wrapped her long hand around the knife and pulled it free, her stabbed eye squeezed shut. Throwing it aside she stepped forward, her blood landing on the carpet and sending up toxic puffs of smoke. All the same the blood was stopping unnaturally fast. Tom remembered the cops' stories about how fast the other dragon had healed. Like a vampire or a werewolf. No doubt in a few minutes she would be good as new. From the look on her face he would not live long enough to see it.

"You're a fool Tom! I offered you the world! I offered you me! All you had to do was kill that bitch and we could have been together forever." She was roaring but all the same it was still muffled by his near deafness. "You have to know I can't just let you walk Tom. You can't leave me. I hate to sound cliché, but if I can't have you then nobody will."

As she walked slowly, purposefully towards him with her fiery eye shining like a spotlight, Tom got to his feet and made a show of straightening out his tux. "Sorry babe, but you know how it is. We've grown apart. I've moved on. And to tell the truth… I'm a tit man and that flat chested lizard body just doesn't do it for me."

Angry beyond human words she roared and bunched up, preparing to strike. Tom considered himself lucky. As he said he had seen some of her other victims. He was certain that whatever was about to happen, he would die quick. Not wrapped in her writhing poisonous coils as she rode him to death before slicing him up and taking chunks out of him.

"Hey snake-bitch!" Tom looked up and Kendra twisted her head and long neck around without changing her body's position. A mistake. Julia was standing behind her on the dais, at head height since the dragon had stepped down to go after Tom. She hefted the axe she had taken from the suit of armor nearby like a baseball bat. "Get your own man!"

The blade was well polished and she swung hard with desperation and all the pain Kendra had inflicted on her. Maybe a bit of madness aggravated by the hallucinogenic poison still sizzling on her cheek. It swung through the air so fast it looked like a silver moon. Sparks flew and it was like chopping a tree, but it was good and heavy and Kendra's neck was thinner than a human's. It sent painful vibrations through Julia's arms, but the head detached from the dragon's body and flew into the air.

Tom stepped back as blood flew and Julia fell to her knees, the ax clattering away. Kendra's body stood there for a moment before it collapsed in on itself. It landed looking like a load of dirty laundry soaked with green blood and slime. Only her tail was visible. The head landed among the pews out of sight and he was just glad not to see that hideous thing glaring at him any more.

Edging around the body Tom rushed over to Julia and helped her up. "Are you okay?"

She used a blood stained sleeve to finally wipe the dried blood and venom off of her cheek, wincing at the feel. "I'll be fine. You? Looked like she was inside your head."

"Yeah, but it's like I told her, we've grown apart."

"I know. I'm the one who parted her. And you're a tit man." She looked down at her chest. "Hear that girls? You've saved my life. Is there anything they can't do?"

Tom smiled. "Come on, let's get to a hospital."

She shook her head. "No way. I have a better idea."

"Julia…"

"Don't Julia me. I just saved you from a dragon. That makes me the hero," she said. "You have to do what I say. So we're eloping. You and I are going to head out to the cheapest chapel we can find. We're getting married tonight. Then we're going on our honeymoon before we move out of this damned town."

Tom smiled as they walked down towards the door. "Well my parents will be fine with it, but your mother is going to kill you."

"She can bring it," Julia the Dragon Slayer snarled. She glanced back as the priest began to get up, moaning and holding his head. There was already a long bruise across his face, but he looked like he would be fine. In the distance they heard sirens. The nun had apparently called the cops. "Come on; let's get out of here before someone tries to make us explain this crap."

"Yes dear," Tom said meekly. "So where are we going to honeymoon? Aruba? Hawaii?"

"The Swiss Alps. I want to go someplace where I won't see any reptiles."

They got in their car and headed out just before the police arrived, heading for the nearest drive-through chapel. The priest managed to stumble to his feet as the police arrived, guns drawn.

The chapel had been cordoned off. The crime scene techs had been through. So far nobody knew exactly who the two missing people were, but eventually they might track down the new Mister and Missus Franklyn, though it would probably do them no good until the two came back from Switzerland. If they ever did.

At the moment the authorities were outside away from the chemical stench of the dragon. The police wanted to take it to the morgue and call the CDC since its blood had eaten through their crime scene investigator's gloves. Animal control had been called to haul it away. Scientists and showmen from the casinos had heard about it through various means and were lobbying for ownership. Even the priest, a man who recognized opportunity, was talking about having the thing stuffed and mounted to display in the church. He was threatening to call the Vatican.

Meanwhile inside the church the dragon's rings, wrapped around her arm, seemed to throb. The severed head that had rolled under the pews vanished like smoke. Meanwhile its neck stretched and a new head formed. After several minutes her eyes snapped open and she gasped for air. Moaning she placed a claw on her skull. Then she felt down her neck and rubbed it. "Ouch! That hurt."

"Tell me about it," a voice said in her ear.

She turned and came face to face with another dragon. "Ah!"

"Don't yell in my face," it snarled Kendra reared back and then stopped as her neck, now seemingly longer than before, reached the end of its length. The other dragon did the same until they were about eight feet apart. Looking down she saw that it still connected to her body, right along with the second neck which stretched up and away to the other dragon's head.

"What the hell?" She raised a claw, intending to slash it away.

"Hey I woke up five minutes ago and had the same thought. Hold yourself in check girl. Unless you're ready for another three-way."

"What?"

"Great, I'm the smart one," the other head said. "Think girl. Remember that old TV show or movie or whatever it was. The guy cut the head off a dragon and…"

"And it grew two more every time," Kendra groaned and lowered her claws. "So if we cut one of us off we'll just grow two more."

Her other head, who smiled the same way she did, said, "Maybe. I don't know and I certainly don't want to risk it. Having our head cut off once sucked. You?"

"Not really, even if I feel like a bad ventriloquist act. Worst break-up ever."

"Well I… _we_ wanted to get married. Until death do we part baby." She leaned in and kissed her other head on her scaled cheek.

"Does this count as masturbation, incest, or lesbianism?"

"We could ask the priest."

"Screw it. Let's get out of here."

A moment later the humans bickering outside were interrupted as the stained glass window above their head exploded into a shower of raining rainbow colored glass. They all covered their heads and then looked up as Kendra, like an avenging angel, flew over their heads and into the night. None of them even reached for a gun as she flapped her huge wings and disappeared into the flashing lights of Sin City.

28


End file.
